"I may not be the smartest in the room, but I'll always be the hardest worker."
My grandpa used to say this to my dad, and my dad passed it to me. Reflecting on my life before this experience, I'm sure that I've achieved what I have because of that idea. I made sure that I had a reputation as someone who would always be helpful.
This mindset, which has served me so well in the past, is actually causing me quite a few problems in Ecuador. After one month of living here, Spanish is still difficult for me to understand, and it's far more difficult to speak. While I'm sure this is a shock to absolutely no one, my ego is not taking it well. I've had some days this month that have led me to question what I'm doing here. If I can't even understand what it is being asked of me, who am I supposed to be helping? I actually often feel more like a nuissance than an asset.
After a particularly hard day last week, I called an alumni of Rostro, and a trusted mentor of mine, for some guidance. I ranted for a while until I let out an exasperated exhale and declared, "I just feel useless." In response, she posed the following question to me: "Well, what if you are useless?" Not what I was hoping to hear, to be honest.
She was basically asking me, so if you are useless, does that make you invaluable?
Father Jim Ronan, the founder of Rostro de Cristo, says that when the first Rostro volunteers landed in Ecuador, they asked him, "Father, what are we going to do today?" He answered, "We're not going to do anything. We're just going to be." That's what I'm trying to remember right now. My purpose here is not to fix anything.
When you have nothing to offer, what makes you valuable? If you lose your voice, what can you contribute? In a world that decides a person's worth based on how much they've done, what makes you important even when you can't do anything?
“I invite you to discover your vocation in downward mobility. It’s a scary request… The world is obsessed with wealth and security and upward mobility and prestige. But let us teach solidarity, walking with the victims, serving and loving. I offer this for you to consider – downward mobility.
And I would say in this enterprise there is a great deal of hope.
Have the courage to lose control.
Have the courage to feel useless.
Have the courage to listen.
Have the courage to receive.
Have the courage to let your heart be broken.
Have the courage to feel.
Have the courage to fall in love.
Have the courage to get ruined for life.
Have the courage to make a friend.”
This quote comes from a Jesuit named Father Dean Brackley, and it says exactly what I'm trying to say. My experience here is one of downward mobility. I'm learning that a person's value is not in their outward achievement; it's much deeper than that.
I still fully believe in that idea that my grandpa passed on to me, I've just decided to slightly revise it. I may not be the smartest in the room, and I may not always feel like the hardest worker, but I have something to offer regardless. I'm sure my grandpa would agree.
I'm plainly still in transition right now. I alternate between feeling so happy to be here and feeling like I can't take one more clumsy Spanish conversation. However, I know that both feelings are just part of the process. We are building a life here, slowly but surely, and I know that it is going to take time. It has been, and will continue to be, a huge test of my patience.
There's a lot more to be said right now, but my motto for this blog is "the great is the enemy of the good." In other words, if I try to make these posts perfect, no one will ever see them...
Ciao for now,
Grace <3
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